


Qui Custos es Mei

by Vichan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-20
Updated: 2010-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vichan/pseuds/Vichan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Oh, yeah. It was about to get mighty crowded at the Singer Salvage Yard.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Qui Custos es Mei

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Do not own. Do not sue.  
>  ~8400 words. Written for the Secret Angels exchange at [](http://community.livejournal.com/deancastiel/profile)[**deancastiel**](http://community.livejournal.com/deancastiel/), and this one is for [](http://birddi.livejournal.com/profile)[**birddi**](http://birddi.livejournal.com/). I hope you like this! Huge, enormous thanks to [](http://extraonions.livejournal.com/profile)[**extraonions**](http://extraonions.livejournal.com/) and [](http://fannyanns.livejournal.com/profile)[**fannyanns**](http://fannyanns.livejournal.com/) for giving this the beta treatment!

Sam showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the night with an angel in tow and his barely conscious brother wrapped up in the angel's arms.

Bobby took a half-second to process Sam's disheveled appearance; his shirt was ripped at the shoulder, his lip was swollen and split open, and there was a bruise forming that would most likely be a black eye by the morning. Dean, on the other hand, was probably in worse shape, considering the fact that despite being at least partially conscious, he was still allowing someone to carry him. The fact that the 'someone' was an angel was even more worrisome.

"The hell happened?" Bobby asked as he stepped aside to let them in. When Sam entered, an odd smell emanated from his clothing and Bobby wrinkled his nose, not entirely sure if he wanted to identify what it was. Bobby also halfway attempted to eyeball Castiel as he walked past - after all, the first and only time he'd met the guy was when he pulled a two-finger salute that had knocked Bobby out - but Castiel's attention seemed to be locked on Dean.

"Demons," Sam said, as if that explained everything. Which, knowing the usual chaos that was the Winchesters' lives, kind of **did** explain everything. "Lots and lots of demons." Sam rubbed his hand over his face, and Bobby realized that Sam was probably just tired, not hurt. Bobby turned his concern to Dean who, judging from the occasional moan he let out, obviously wasn't dead, but had likely still suffered some fairly bad blows.

Castiel hadn't glanced away from Dean once since they'd entered Bobby's house. He looked to be in pristine condition compared the Winchesters; he didn't have a scratch or mark anywhere on him. Bobby wondered if the angel had just swooped in at the last minute and snatched the boys out of whatever stupid situation they'd managed to get themselves into.

"Where can he lay?" Castiel asked. Bobby went still for a moment, and wondered if Castiel caught him staring.

"Is he hurt?" Bobby asked.

"He just needs to rest."

"There's a couch in the living room," Bobby said. He led Castiel to the red, sunken, nearly broken couch that both Sam and Dean had crashed on many times over the years. Castiel leaned down, laid a nearby pillow down at the head of the couch, and gently placed Dean on the cushions. Castiel slowly lowered Dean's head onto the pillow, never wavering in supporting his neck - almost as if Dean had a neck injury. Bobby thought Castiel might be treating Dean too much like glass, but then, Bobby didn't actually know what had gone down. "What happened? Is he all right?" Bobby asked as he gestured at a blanket tossed over the back of the couch.

Castiel pulled the blanket down and laid it over Dean's prone form. "He is... besotted."

"He's **what**?!" Bobby couldn't help his voice coming out in a surprised yell.

Sam let out a short laugh that sounded more annoyed than amused. "He's drunk, Bobby."

"I **know** what it means, ya idjit! I'm asking you how it happened! What was he thinking?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, in his defense, we weren't working a case and we didn't know we were going to get ambushed."

A mumble came from the couch that sounded suspiciously like "...t'anks... stickin' up... Sammy." Bobby lifted an eyebrow; he thought Dean would have been out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow.

"Uh, no problem, Dean. We were at a bar," Sam continued. "I'd only had a beer and a half, but Dean was three sheets to the wind by the time the demons crashed in on us."

"Jesus." Bobby spared a sideways glance at the angel, absently wondering if he would care about his 'taking the Lord's name in vain.' Of course, said angel hung around Dean, whose mouth got him into plenty of trouble, so it was probably a moot point. "How'd you guys get out of there?"

"Well, we fought 'em." Sam shrugged. "Dean was actually holding his own pretty well for how much liquor he put away, until he started puking on the demons. Which, funny enough, actually seemed to make them stay away more than punching them did, but really didn't help all that much when I slipped and fell in it. Can I please take a shower, by the way?"

That explained the smell Bobby caught a whiff of earlier. "You ain't even sleeping on my **floor** if you're covered in puke, boy."

"So that's a yes?"

Bobby didn't even merit that with an answer; he just gave Sam a looked that said 'idjit.'

"Okay, so while I'm rolling around in his vomit -" Sam paused and made another disgusted face, "- Dean started to challenge them to drinking contests -"

"Now you're exaggerating."

"I wish I was. And I'm only halfway sure that Dean was joking. Anyway, that's when Castiel showed up."

"And...?"

"And won." Sam glanced over at Castiel, who was still hovering over Dean. "The fight, I mean. There were at least thirty demons in there, and Castiel took 'em all out."

"What?!" Bobby exclaimed, jerking his gaze over to Castiel. He knew angels were powerful, but every time he heard of another display of their power it still took him by surprise. Castiel did appear fairly harmless, after all. "How?"

"Bad-ass angel, gettin' his smite on," Dean said, his words still coming out slurred but marginally clearer than before, and his eyes opened to just a hair bigger than a sliver. "Cas whooped -"

"You should be asleep," Castiel interrupted, evidently not interested in hearing his own exploits.

Dean lifted his hand and it landed heavily on Castiel's shoulder. "Thought you weren't a guardian..." Dean whispered so quietly that Bobby barely heard it, but he did hear it and yeah, Dean was definitely drunk. Apparently a friendly drunk, from the looks of it. Hadn't Dean stabbed this guy in the chest the first time they met?

Castiel glanced at Dean's hand clenched tight around the collar of Castiel's coat. "I'm not. Sleep."

"Don't wanna," Dean mumbled.

"Dean, what the hell're you talking about?" Bobby asked, exasperated. "You look like you shoulda dropped hours ago." He hadn't gotten sloshed with Dean many times, but in the few times he had he never remembered Dean fighting off the inevitable stage of passing out.

"I don't wanna sleep," Dean insisted. "Don't wanna..."

Castiel lifted Dean's hand off of his shoulder, wrapping his own long fingers around Dean's. "You will not dream tonight, Dean."

The corner of Dean's lips quirked, and he stared up at Castiel, who gave a small nod. Castiel leaned forward and brushed Dean's forehead with two fingertips, and the tension seemed to drain out of Dean's body. He let out a quiet sigh and his eyelids slipped shut.

Bobby's eyebrows shot upwards. "Dreams?" he asked, not fully expecting anyone to give him a straight answer. The Winchesters liked their secrets.

"Dean's been..." Sam shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting his balance from one leg to the other. "He's been having some nightmares."

"About what?" Bobby asked. Sam's eyes met Bobby's, and Bobby finally realized how tired and sad Sam appeared. He looked better than he had when Dean died, but worse than when John had passed. Bobby could tell something was eating at Sam, and had been for a while. "What's going on, Sam?" he pressed.

Sam opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to speak. Bobby couldn't tell if he was because Sam didn't know what he wanted to say, or if he wasn't sure he should say anything at all. Sam gave up and finally sighed and cast his gaze to the floor. "Can I take that shower now?"

Bobby studied Sam for another moment, then sighed. "Sure. Towels are in the linen closet upstairs." Any questions could wait until morning, when Dean was awake and sober enough to help Sam answer them. Sam nodded and trudged away, somewhat heavy-footed for a usually stealthy hunter. Bobby watched his retreating back until he disappeared around the corner.

"The demons were gathering in an attempt to destroy the Winchesters." Bobby started at Castiel's voice, and his head swiveled back towards the couch. Castiel still hovered over Dean, but his attention was on Bobby.

Bobby pushed his concern for the boys out of his mind and dug out the tactical soldier inside. He thought back to what Sam had said: thirty demons had attacked them in a bar, and Castiel wound up taking them out. That meant that there likely wasn't any immediate danger, but Castiel's presence alone probably meant something big was going down. Throw in the thirty demons and they had a royal shit-storm, and the Winchesters, as usual, were right at the center of it all. "Care to tell me what's going on?" Bobby asked.

Castiel sighed, released Dean's hand, and stood to meet Bobby face to face. Bobby hid an uneasy swallow; Castiel wasn't as tall as Dean and was nowhere near as tall as Sam, but he somehow still held himself in a way that commanded immediate attention. "We're not exactly certain of what happened tonight," Castiel said. "All we are able to confirm is that an unusual amount of demons went after Sam and Dean, unprovoked."

Bobby raised an eyebrow and wondered if that was the royal 'we.'

Castiel's eyes never wavered from Bobby's as he continued. "We were unable to determine if the demons were after one or both of them. Until we can devise exactly what their intentions were, the Winchesters will need someplace safe to stay."

"Well, they'll be staying here, of course," Bobby said, wondering why Castiel wouldn't just come out and ask.

Castiel nodded in approval. "Your accommodation is appreciated. Until one of my brothers is able to bring viable information on what the other side may be planning, we will be staying here."

"Right," Bobby said in agreement, while he was thinking _Again with the 'we?' This mean **he's** staying, too?_ Sam and Dean and **Castiel** were all staying at Bobby's until Castiel could be useful. _Perfect_. Bobby hadn't been the best host before he was a hunter, and now he was expected to shelter, bed, and feed two loud brothers who fought like a married couple more often than not. Bobby had dealt with that before, and although it wasn't an easy task, he could do it again. But throw in an angel who could knock him out with a touch of a finger, and had done so already? Quite a group to be stuck together for an indefinite amount of time in a house that was much smaller than it appeared.

A loud snore reverberated throughout the room, and Bobby remembered that Dean could occasionally saw some major wood when he was passed out drunk.

Oh, yeah. It was about to get mighty crowded at the Singer Salvage Yard.

* * *

For the first hour after Dean woke up the next morning, he curled up into a ball on the couch and wrapped the blanket around himself. Bobby tried to rouse him for breakfast, poking at what he thought was Dean's shoulder, although it was hard to tell with the blanket covering him from head to toe. "G'way," was the muffled moan Bobby got in response. "I'm dying."

"You're hung over, not dying," Bobby muttered in exasperation. "Grow some balls, Dean."

"I have balls o'plenty, but they're not keepin' me from dying."

Bobby snorted. "Looks like someone can't handle their liquor, then." He gave a swift kick to the bottom of the couch, which drew another loud groan from Dean. "There's breakfast in the kitchen."

"I hope it's not eggs."

"No, Sam gets eggs. You get a couple o' aspirin and a big glass of water." Bobby turned to leave, calling out over his shoulder, "Don't say I never did nothing for ya."

Sam and Bobby had almost finished with breakfast by the time Dean dragged himself from the living room to the kitchen. He plopped down in the wooden chair next to Sam, downed the aspirin, gulped the water, and promptly put his head down on the table. "Anyone figure out what the hell happened last night?" he asked, muffled.

"Aside from you consuming a bottle and a half of Jameson by yourself?" Sam asked in what Bobby recognized as Sam's 'smart-ass little brother' tone of voice. "You're lucky you didn't get alcohol poisoning."

"'S not luck."

"Oh, so it's skill?"

"Shut up."

Bobby stared at them and wondered how long it would take for him to wind up with a nervous tick under his eye. Last time they stayed it had taken a full day and a half. "Your angel said they were looking into what happened," Bobby mentioned as he stood up to gather the dishes.

"He's not **our** angel," Dean practically spat, and he rolled his head around until he was resting his chin on the table, glaring up at Bobby with bloodshot eyes. Bobby ignored him and turned to put the dishes in the sink. Dean should have learned by now that Bobby couldn't be intimidated, especially not by a severely hung over Dean. "All he does is show up to let us know what our monthly doom and gloom is," Dean continued in a mirthful tone as he finally lifted his head from the table and leaned back in his chair. He rocked backwards and balanced on the rear two legs, drawing a loud creaking sound from the chair. "I don't see how that makes him 'ours.'"

"Quit doin' whatever you're doin' to my chair," Bobby commanded over his shoulder as he pulled out the dish soap from under the sink. "You're gonna break the legs."

"I'm inclined to agree." The voice came from behind Sam and Dean, and Dean lost his balance on the chair, pitched forward and barely stopped himself from smacking his forehead on the table's edge. Bobby spun around and spotted Castiel in the doorway.

Dean managed to turn on his seat and shot a glare at Castiel. "What sin does breaking Bobby's chair fall under?"

Castiel slowly tilted his head to study Dean, and Bobby was forcefully reminded of the fact that no matter what Castiel looked like, he wasn't human. He didn't act like one, and he certainly didn't move like one.

"You misinterpret what I was referring to," Castiel said. "I am simply reminding you that I am not your personal angel."

"Never said you were," Dean snapped, crossing his arms. "You just show up whenever-"

"I am here to guide you, not watch over and protect you," Castiel said with what looked like a sneer forming. Dean could apparently even get under the skin of an angel of the Lord. Bobby would have laughed, except it really wasn't all that funny.

"Then why'd you show up last night?" Dean demanded. "Why didn't you just mind your own damn business?" He moved to stand up, but Sam reached forward and grabbed his arm. Bobby wondered what had changed between the night before and the next morning; was Dean really **that** hung over that he felt the need to pick a fight?

"Did you find anything out, Cas?" Sam asked as he glared at the back of Dean's head.

"No," Castiel replied, his eyes still glued to Dean, who was returning the favor. "My brothers are looking into it. I am to remain with the both of you in the meantime."

"Seriously?!" Dean exclaimed as he broke Sam's grip. He did stand up this time, and Bobby winced as the chair fell backwards and clattered to the floor. Dean crossed the distance between himself and Castiel in two long strides and stood face to face with him. "So we're not only stuck here on the sidelines for God knows how long while something apocalyptically big could be going down, but we're also gonna be stuck here with **you**?"

"Yes."

"Care to tell us why?" Dean asked, his voice dropping dangerously low as he leaned closer to Castiel. "And don't give me one of your cryptic bullshit answers."

Bobby sighed quietly and shared a look with Sam, who simply shook his head. Leave it to Dean to have a pissing contest with an angel.

Castiel, for what it was worth, held his ground against Dean's fury. "This could be avoidable. I could take you somewhere that is impossible for demons to reach, where it wouldn't be necessary for me to stay."

"Then why don't you do that?"

Castiel leaned forward, so close that the tips of their noses almost touched. "I thought this would be more comfortable for you. Would you rather stay here, with a trusted friend, or would you rather stay in complete isolation with no immediate contact with the outside world?"

"I -"

Sam leapt to his feet. "**I** would rather stay **here**," he said pointedly, glaring at his brother. "Dean, back off." He pulled on Dean's arm, who ignored him. "Dean!" Sam repeated.

Dean just sneered, shook his head and stalked into the living room, deliberately running into Castiel's shoulder as he passed by. A few moments later, Bobby heard the front door slam. Castiel was suddenly conspicuously absent, leaving Bobby and Sam alone. Sam's head fell backwards and he let out a frustrated sigh.

Bobby's eyebrows shot upwards. "Where'd he go?" he asked, looking around the perimeter of the kitchen.

"Castiel? If he said he was staying, he's around," Sam replied. "The angels like to do that disappearing act a lot. He's probably up on the roof or something." He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. "I'm sorry, Bobby. We didn't even ask; is it okay if we hang out here for a while?"

Bobby shrugged. "Fine by me. Lord knows I've put up with worse from you two."

"I'm sorry."

Bobby shrugged and turned back around to face the sink. "What's the story with Dean, though?" he asked as his twisted the nozzle. "He seemed fine with the angel last night. He only get along with Castiel when he's drunk?"

"I really don't know," Sam said in a tired voice. "At first I thought it was because Dean was pissed about how the whole thing went down with Anna, but now..." He trailed off, and Bobby glanced over his shoulder to see Sam frowning. Bobby shut off the water and turned back around.

"But now what?" Bobby asked.

Sam gave Bobby a weak smile and shook his head. "Nothing. You know how Dean gets sometimes; he likes to remind everyone that he's the one in control."

"Right," Bobby said dryly, only halfway accepting Sam's answer. He tossed a rag at Sam, who caught it with a faint look of surprise. "Why don't you fix that chair and wipe off my table, then? You three ain't gonna be staying here for free." As Bobby turned to finish the dishes, he absently wondered out loud, "I wonder how good angels are at getting oil stains off of garage floors?"

* * *

A few hours went by without incident, and Bobby was marginally impressed. Of course, he hadn't seen either Dean or Castiel since breakfast, so he didn't know if they were hiding somewhere on his lot tearing into each other. He hoped they weren't, because he wanted to take full advantage of having extra bodies around the house to put to work.

In order to keep his expenses in order, Bobby repaired cars for what few neighbors he had. Between the occasional hunt, research, and towing junk cars back to his yard, he was almost always behind on repairs. He intended to put Dean's mechanical skills to work, both to catch up and keep Dean out of trouble. The convenient double-edged sword was all Sam's idea, but the thought of Dean under the hood of a 1997 Honda Civic instead of an American muscle car gave Bobby a chuckle.

But of course it wouldn't be that simple, because by the time he tracked Dean down he was once again toeing off with Castiel for another showdown, only this time it was in his living room.

"You tell us to save the seals, only you won't tell us where the damn seals are," Dean was saying as Bobby walked in. "You put me through heavenly 'tests,' you show up in my head **while I'm sleeping** -" Bobby raised an eyebrow at that and decided not to interrupt them. This one could be interesting, so he just crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam, preparing for a show.

"You threaten Sam -"

"Need I remind you that it was Uriel who did that?" Castiel replied in a surprisingly calm tone.

"Yeah, and the both of you have threatened to send me back to Hell if I'm not the cooperative, obedient little soldier you want me to be," Dean hissed. Bobby felt a wave of fear topped off by vexation; in typical Dean-fashion, Dean neglected to mention something as important as **that** to Bobby.

Annoyance flashed across Castiel's face. "You've never been cooperative and you're hardly obedient, and yet you remain **here.**"

"And yet you still haven't told me why I'm here in the first place!" Dean shouted. "You've never given me a straight answer about anything, and you expect me to **cooperate**?"

"You have never asked the right questions." Castiel's speech came out slow and threatening, and the hairs on the back of Bobby's neck started to stand upright. Bobby saw Dean's fingers curling up into a fist, and he stepped forward just in time to catch Dean's arm as he reared back to throw it.

"That's enough!" Bobby shouted. "**Both** of you," he added as he shot a look at Castiel, who at least had the grace to look apologetic. Bobby turned back to Dean. "I don't know what problems you've got with this guy... er... angel, Dean. And actually, I don't think I care."

"Bobby -" Dean started.

"Shut it. And you," Bobby paused, unable to believe he was about to berate a freaking angel of the Lord. He ignored the fact that Castiel looked just as bewildered. "I don't know you, and I don't get why you have to egg him on. You have to know he's about as hard-headed as a brick wall."

"Hey!" Dean protested.

Bobby held up a finger. "Shut it," he repeated. "If you're gonna be staying under my roof, you two had best be working out whatever issues you have with each other." He finally released Dean's arm. "And you'd better do it now, 'cuz I ain't letting you two back in my house until you can stand to be in a room together for ten minutes without going at each others' throats."

Dean shook his head. "You've gotta be kidding," he said.

"You think I am? You haven't even been here a day, and none of us know how long you'll be staying. You two fix this." Both Castiel and Dean were staring at Bobby now; Dean incredulously, and Castiel curiously. "Now!"

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean. "I will be out back." He disappeared, and Bobby swore he heard a rustling sound, like wings flapping.

Dean continued to eye Bobby in disbelief. "Bobby, what -"

"Outside, Dean," Bobby insisted. "I don't want you two destroying my house, so you're putting a stop to this before you do." He crossed his arms. Bobby had never had children, but sometimes dealing with Dean made him feel like he would have been a pretty decent father. Dean sometimes had the mental capacity of a twelve-year-old, after all. "What the hell are you thinking, anyway? You've already seen what that angel can do, and we have absolutely no idea how powerful he is. He could probably destroy you with a thought, and you're going around picking fights with him?"

"He started it -"

"I don't care, Dean!" Bobby threw his hands up in the air. "He pulled you out of Hell, and he sure as shit took care of you last night. I know I'm grateful to him for keeping an eye on you and freaking **bringing you back to life**, and all you can do is push at him?" He pointed at the door. "Get going. I don't know what your problem is. Just go fix it."

"Bobby, please don't make me -"

"**Now!**" Bobby commanded with a tone of finality. Bobby let the tension run out of his body as Dean nodded and reluctantly moved to leave. When he turned, Bobby caught a flash of something run across Dean's eyes.

If Bobby didn't know any better, he would have sworn it was fear.

* * *

The sun was setting and it was nearly time for dinner by the time Dean trudged back into the house. He held a deep frown, his hands were shoved in his pockets, and he seemed to be more interested in looking at the floor than meeting anyone in the eyes. Castiel was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked.

"What?!" Dean jumped. "Nothing! Nothing happened!"

Sam's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "I was just gonna ask if you wanted beer or water with your burger."

"Oh." Dean looked sheepish. "I'll take a -"

"He's having water," Bobby offered. "No way he's having a drop of alcohol today after the way he woke up this morning."

"I'm standing right here, Bobby," Dean said.

"Water," Bobby repeated. "Does Castiel want anything? Do angels even need to eat or drink anything?"

"I don't know," Dean said in a surprisingly insistent voice. "Why should I know that? I don't know everything about him, so how would I know?" His words came out in a rush, and Bobby raised an eyebrow.

"Okay. You're being extra weird today," Sam commented. "Where were you all afternoon, anyway?" Bobby hadn't mentioned anything to Sam about the second fight of the day, nor the way he had thrown Dean and Castiel out afterward.

"I was here," Dean said quickly. "I was around."

"Did you get that problem taken care of, Dean?" Bobby asked.

"Problem? What problem? There's no problem, Bobby."

Bobby nodded, satisfied. "Good."

Dean jumped at shadows the rest of the night, and Bobby wondered if Castiel had just had enough and scared the shit out of Dean. Dean didn't seem to be hurt, so Bobby couldn't justify going after Castiel with a pick axe - not that an axe would do a damn thing aside from damaging the ever-present trench coat, anyway. When Bobby tried to ask Dean what happened, he avoided the subject entirely.

Bobby supposed it was better than fighting.

* * *

Getting older had its advantages, but it was also extremely inconvenient at times. Having to crawl out of bed at three in the morning to take a piss was a good example.

Bobby didn't turn on the light as he shuffled into the second floor bathroom, still half-asleep. As he relieved himself, he glanced out the window and down at his property. He blinked, suddenly wide awake when he spotted a figure standing over by the garage. No, it was two figures, Bobby realized as he leaned closer to the window. Bobby groaned internally; he figured it was his neighbor's boys, who had recently taken to sneaking onto his property so they could drink a few beers and smoke a joint or two. He'd already chased them off three times, but apparently a shotgun wasn't enough to make them take him seriously. _Kids these days seem to be getting stupider and stupider_, Bobby thought.

As Bobby stared into the darkness, though, he realized the two figures stood so close that they were practically on top of each other. Bobby frowned, squinted, and finally recognized that they weren't the two hooligans from a mile up the road. Instead, it was Dean and Castiel, once again proving that they seemed to have no concept of personal space.

Bobby swore quietly as he finished emptying his bladder. He should have known that whatever had gone down that afternoon hadn't settled things, and now they were going after each other again. Dean apparently wouldn't sleep until he got his daily quota of macho showdowns with Castiel. Bobby peered out the window and swore again when he saw Castiel had grabbed and shoved Dean up against the wall of the garage, and Bobby moved to run outside and stop them. He couldn't imagine Castiel actually hurting Dean - after all, he **had** gone to the trouble of pulling the kid out of Hell - but Bobby didn't want to chance it. As Bobby began to turn away, though, he noticed something that made him pause.

Dean wasn't struggling.

Not only that, but Castiel's hands didn't seem to be holding Dean against the wall; they just seemed to be holding him. Dean, on the other hand, had lowered his arms and pulled Castiel closer. Their faces were held so close together that their lips nearly touched, and when Dean leaned foward and closed the gap between Castiel and himself, Bobby nearly fell over.

Bobby rubbed his eyes and wondered if he was just having a really bizarre dream. He looked outside again.

Nope, it definitely wasn't a dream. Dean was still kissing the angel.

More accurately, Dean was apparently trying to suck the face off of the angel, and said angel was more than returning the favor.

Bobby blinked a few times, and realized his mouth had fallen agape. He made no effort to move away from the window or cast his gaze elsewhere. He knew he was probably invading a very private moment, but he still couldn't fully process what he was seeing.

Dean and Castiel were making out like they were horny teenagers.

Dean pulled roughly on Castiel's trenchcoat, and Castiel shifted his upper body to assist. When the coat fell to the ground, Bobby tore his eyes away from the scene. He stared at the wall, well aware that his face was frozen in shock.

"Well, I'll be damned," he finally said.

* * *

To say that Bobby was surprised was an understatement.

He thought he knew Dean better than anyone, save Sam. Of course, that also meant that he knew Dean was crazy, and every time Bobby thought he'd seen Dean at his craziest he would go and pull something so batshit insane that it made his last stunt look like a dozen roses on Valentine's Day. That boy had quite a reputation for having a few screws loose.

But Dean having a fling with an angel? Bobby never saw **that** coming, not in a million years. And over the next few weeks, it only got weirder.

Dean continuously snuck off at all hours of night and day. He always looked somewhat smug, although every time someone mentioned Castiel's name he tensed up ever so slightly; so slight that Bobby probably wouldn't even have noticed if he wasn't already looking for it.

Castiel, on the other hand, was rarely seen. When he was around, though, he stayed quiet, but Bobby noticed his eyes constantly followed Dean around. Of course, Bobby didn't know if that was any different from before. He did know that Dean definitely hadn't let that obscene smirk spread itself across his face every time he noticed Castiel watching him. That was new.

Bobby wondered if John Winchester was rolling over in his metaphorical grave.

Sam suspected something was going on, but Bobby was pretty sure he didn't know what it was. If he did know, he hadn't mentioned it. But Bobby saw Sam's eyebrows scrunch up the way they did whenever he was faced with a puzzle he didn't have all the pieces to. Bobby had seen it plenty of times before when they'd been researching. Bobby wondered if he should explain it all to Sam, but he didn't exactly feel comfortable revealing to Sam that Dean was apparently angel-o-sexual.

Bobby also hadn't mentioned to Dean that he'd caught sight of the little make-out session between him and Castiel. Bobby wanted to; he felt a need to keep an eye on the boys, and he wasn't exactly sure that getting it on with an angel was such a great idea. The truth was, though, that Bobby had no idea how to even approach the subject, and he had no clue how Dean would react. Hell, Bobby still wasn't clear on how **he** was reacting himself.

He'd worked himself past the initial shock, which slowly gave way into slight amusement - after all, Dean had been necking with the very angel he hadn't even **believed** in a few months before. After Bobby got over the funny aspect of it, though, a pit yawned open in his stomach. Bobby couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but something about Dean and Castiel scared the shit out of him.

It could have been the angel thing. Of all the lore Bobby had read about angels, there was not a word written about what would happen when an angel and a human started canoodling. Dean apparently already slept with another angel, but from what Bobby understood, she had been human when she and Dean did the nasty. Castiel was a full-blown angel, and what he was doing with Dean was unprecedented. There wasn't a way to gauge what the consequences were, or even if there were any consequences. Bobby didn't like unpredictability.

It wasn't the male thing, either. Bobby hadn't known that Dean liked guys - after all, no one was more of a ladies' man than Dean. But even if Dean **was** bisexual, or even gay, Bobby wouldn't care about that. In fact, Bobby actually had a PFLAG sticker somewhere in his house - his nephew had sent it to him after he'd told the family that he would be going to some parade wearing neon green fishnet stockings and a sparkly tube dress, and Bobby was one of the only relatives that simply shrugged and said 'so?' Of course, that was before hunting, when Bobby still spoke to his family. Bobby still felt a bit bad about losing contact with the kid; he probably could have used some support.

So Castiel and Dean both having peckers wasn't the problem. Besides, Bobby wasn't even sure if Castiel technically counted as male, since most of the lore written about angels defined them as sexless. Then again, Castiel had possessed a human being, and Bobby was pretty sure he **did** have a problem with **that**. He knew Dean had mentioned Castiel's claim that the man had been devout and willing, but Bobby couldn't be sure if that meant the poor bastard might not have a problem with an angel using his body for gay sex with Dean.

Bobby let out a sudden laugh when that thought crossed his mind, and Dean jumped, smacking his head on the hood of the Civic. He swore and glared at Bobby. "Ow! What the hell, Bobby?"

Bobby waved it off. "Nothing. Get back to work."

Dean rolled his eyes and ducked under the hood to tighten a bolt when something caught his eye. Bobby followed his gaze and spotted Castiel, and damn it, Sam was right - the damn angel **was** hanging out on his roof.

Bobby looked back at Dean and saw him let loose a bright smile that Bobby hadn't seen in years, and Bobby finally realized exactly what it was that bothered him so much about whatever was going on between Dean and Castiel.

Dean had been through years of pain, losing his mother, hunting, losing his father, his brother, had been to Hell and back, and had been hurt so many times that Bobby was pretty sure the kid was far more broken than he let on.

Castiel, though, made Dean happy.

And that meant that Castiel was in the perfect position to hurt Dean. Castiel had the power to break him into a million tiny pieces. Again.

Bobby narrowed his eyes at the angel perched on his roof. Angel or not, he was not about to let anything hurt Dean again.

* * *

Bobby made every attempt to corner Castiel over the next few days, but either by some marvelous coincidence, or else because Castiel was far too intuitive, Bobby couldn't seem to get Castiel alone. Every time the angel was around, either Sam or Dean or both would be nearby. Bobby even had the idea to assign Castiel a job - after all, he'd put both Sam and Dean to work in return for his hospitality, but Castiel hadn't lifted a finger. He might not have had any need for food or water or a bathroom or sleep, but he **had** been roosting on Bobby's roof. He could have made a nest up there, for all Bobby knew.

But whenever he gave Castiel a task, the angel finished it within minutes, or Bobby would walk up and find Dean distracting Castiel. Fortunately, Dean didn't distract him by using his lips - although Bobby supposed that merely talking was **technically** using one's lips - but it still became a little irksome.

Bobby had been a con man for a long time, though, and he wasn't about to give up because of a few setbacks. If he could get Sam and Dean working on something away from himself and Castiel, all he needed was five minutes to figure out what Castiel wanted from Dean. It worked in theory, anyway; Bobby could read people quite easily, but Castiel wasn't exactly 'people.'

It was pure luck that Bobby discovered the leak in the garage roof. It needed repair, and who better than two strapping young men to do it?

"You know we're not roofers, right?" Dean said. "What makes you think we'll even do this right?"

"Don't make me play the 'I'm an old man' card," Bobby replied and handed over a bucket full of tools. He passed a few packages of shingles to Sam. "Get going."

Sam and Dean shared a look and trekked over to the garage. Bobby watched until they positioned the ladder and started scaling it before he turned around and looked at the roof of his house. As he expected, Castiel sat on one of the less steep slants, gazing over at the garage with one eyebrow raised. Bobby waved his arm to grab his attention, and he beckoned Castiel with one crook of his index finger.

A moment later Bobby felt a rush of wind, and Castiel stood beside him. "I am curious as to why you're having them do that," Castiel said, gesturing towards the garage with his head. "You realize I would be able to accomplish that task much easier than they would?"

"Oh, I realize," Bobby said. "I wanted to talk to you without either of them eavesdropping."

"I noticed."

Bobby stared at Castiel in disbelief; the guy sometimes had more nerve than Dean did. "Then why didn't you come talk to me?"

Castiel looked Bobby straight in the eye, and Bobby repressed a shiver; Castiel was downright unnerving when he really **looked** at someone. "You didn't ask."

"You - Are you - You can't be -" Bobby sputtered and cut himself off. No wonder the angel had riled Dean's feathers so easily; Castiel was about as straightforward as a politician. Bobby shook his head and brushed it off. "Well, I'm asking now."

"Very well." Castiel continued staring at Bobby, and Bobby mentally gave himself a pat on the back for not looking away. "What did you want to talk about?" Castiel asked.

Bobby didn't beat around the bush. "What the hell do you think you're doin' with Dean?"

Castiel's eyebrows grew closer in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit," Bobby spat. "I'm talking about what you two have been up to whenever me an' Sam aren't around. What are your intentions towards him?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Bobby realized how much he had started treating Dean like he was **his**, and he didn't much mind.

Castiel's eyes widened, and Bobby realized it was the first time he'd ever seen the angel actually appear shocked. "You're very... intuitive," Castiel started. "We weren't aware anyone knew."

"Damn right I'm intuitive," Bobby said with a nod. "I put two and two together when I saw you and Dean with your tongues down each others' throats."

"I see." A faint pink tint came over Castiel's face, and Bobby nearly busted out laughing when he realized he had made the angel blush. Bobby kept his face straight, though; he needed to get an explanation out of Castiel.

"So what I'm wondering is what you are getting out of this - whatever the hell it is?" Bobby found it easier and easier to stare Castiel down, and he was pretty sure it was because of the blushing; it brought him down to Bobby's level, made him more **human**.

Castiel didn't answer. Instead, he looked away from Bobby and over at the garage roof, where Dean and Sam were apparently pelting each other with shingles. _Damn it, boys_, Bobby thought absently.

"Comfort."

"Huh?" Bobby glanced back at Castiel, who had directed his intense stare down at the ground. A flash of anger went through Bobby. "'Comfort?'" he repeated as his upper lip curled back. "You're playing games with Dean 'cuz he's **comfortable**?"

Castiel shook his head. "You misunderstand me."

"You had best start explaining, then."

"It's not a game." Castiel met Bobby's eyes again, and Bobby was startled by the amount of emotion he saw there. "It's not that Dean is 'comfortable.' It is the fact that he comforts me." Castiel paused, and his lips quirked at the corners. "He restores my faith."

Bobby blinked. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. "Dean the Atheist restores an angel's faith?" Bobby asked in disbelief. "How does that work?"

Castiel smiled and gave another small shake of his head. "Not in God. I already have faith in my Father. Dean -" Castiel paused. "Dean makes me believe in humanity again. It was something I had not realized I'd lost until he brought it back."

Bobby was more confused than he had been before. "I'm not sure I understand that."

"I'm not sure I expect you to," Castiel replied. "I have watched humanity for thousands of years, and I've been shocked by what they're capable of. I've seen every **filthy** thing humans can do, and it's often made me wonder if there is anything about humanity worth saving." He paused and sneered, and a chill ran down Bobby's spine.

"But Dean -" Castiel continued. "Dean is different from every human I've ever seen." Bobby silently agreed as Castiel went on. "He has seen horrors that would send most humans running off screaming. What he was forced to go through in Hell..." Castiel trailed off.

"I thought he didn't remember that."

"He remembers."

Bobby felt a chill run through him. Although there were only stories of what Hell was like, and no first hand accounts, every tale of Hell was beyond unpleasant. It was a wonder that Dean was even still himself; no wonder the boy had been having nightmares.

"Everything he has endured, in both life and death - it is enough to make anyone else give up." Castiel took a breath to go on, but paused.

"And?" Bobby prompted.

"And he doesn't give up. He never gives up. He's harder on himself than he is on any demon, any creature he's ever fought," Castiel said sadly. "Most good men know that they're good, and know they deserve God. Dean doesn't think he is worth anything."

"But he is," Bobby said quietly.

"He is," Castiel said in agreement, and Bobby was surprised by the force in the statement. "He's worth more than anyone will ever know." He paused. "No matter what he believes, **he** deserves to be saved."

Bobby didn't respond. He and Castiel just looked at each other, and for a moment, Bobby didn't feel like he stared at an angel; he stared into someone who truly understood who Dean was.

Bobby was about to respond when several things seemed to happen all at once: a deafening cracking sound rang across the property, Sam started yelling, Bobby felt a rush of wind and there was suddenly empty space where Castiel had just been standing.

Sam was still yelling, and it took a moment to process that Sam was yelling Dean's name. Bobby finally looked over at the garage, and a numbing fear started to run through him. He saw Sam still on the roof, but he didn't see Dean. Instead of Dean, he spotted a gaping hole large enough for a man to fit through. Sam knelt down beside the hole and yelled Dean's name again, and the terror started to spread faster through Bobby. The garage was tall enough that if Dean had fallen through, he would be seriously hurt.

Bobby started running before he even fully realized he'd been moving. "Sam, get away from there before more of it collapses!" he yelled. A thousand thoughts ran through his head as he made his way over to the garage - it was his fault, Dean could be hurt, Dean would never forgive him for making him get an injury from roofing instead of hunting - and everything jumbled together as Bobby found himself at the garage and heaved the overhead door open.

Castiel crouched down in the middle of the garage floor, Dean safe in his arms. Castiel held Dean close to his chest, almost cradling him. Dean let out a gasp and stared up into Castiel's face in shock, evidently still processing what had happened. He finally blinked and let his characteristic smirk form. "You bad-ass angel," Dean said quietly as his smirk turned into a full-on grin. "I thought you weren't a guardian angel."

"I'm not," Castiel said, completely serious, and he leaned down and captured Dean's lips in a kiss. Bobby looked down and away from them; it was a private moment.

"**Dean!**" Sam shouted from the roof of the garage. "Bobby, is he okay? I can't see him!"

"He's fine, Sam," Bobby called back, and Dean jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Oh, **crap** -" said Dean, scrambling to push himself away from Castiel.

Bobby waved his hand. "Whatever. I've already seen it anyway." He ignored Dean's sputtering shock and looked at Castiel. "We weren't done with our conversation."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, and Bobby didn't miss the way his arms tightened around Dean. "There were more pressing matters."

"Obviously," Bobby agreed. "It don't matter; I don't think we need to finish it."

"Huh?" Dean asked. The complete confusion on his face was almost comical.

Bobby heard shuffling around on the roof as Sam made his way back towards the ladder. "I still don't understand it," Bobby said quietly. "I don't know what the consequences of it are, but I do know one thing."

"And what's that?" Castiel asked.

"You **get** him," Bobby said, nodding at Dean. "Not many people do. And if you keep doing what you did today, I'm not gonna come after you. Got it?"

Castiel studied Bobby for a moment before smiling. "Yes."

"Can I please get clued in here?" Dean asked, raising a hand.

"I'm giving your damn angel my blessing, ya idgit," Bobby said. "Just don't go bumping uglies on my blasted rooftops anymore! I know you're the ones who put a leak up there in the first place!" It was just a guess, but it was confirmed when both Dean and Castiel's faces flared red. Bobby busted out laughing, and Sam walked into the garage and stared at him.

"Am I missing something?" Sam asked. Castiel flushed a deeper red and disappeared, leaving Dean sitting alone in the middle of the dusty garage floor.

Dean swore. "Bastard son-of-a-bitch angel!" he yelled up at the ceiling.

Bobby roared with laughter for the next ten minutes, and Dean refused to explain why to Sam.

* * *

Another few days passed before Castiel finally brought them news. He explained that it seemed like the demon attack had been an isolated incident; they had apparently just gathered in one town for a giant demon party and the Winchesters just happened to come into that particular town. Okay, so Castiel hadn't used the words 'party,' but it was the general gist of it.

Sam was annoyed, and Dean stared at Castiel in disbelief.

Bobby helped them pack up the Impala, and Sam went back inside for one last pit stop. Bobby threw a duffel into the trunk and watched out of the corner of his eye as Dean approached Castiel.

"You didn't make this shit up, did you?" Dean said.

"Why would I do something like that?" Castiel asked.

Dean smirked. "You got into my pants because of it."

"That was just a pleasant side effect." Castiel gave Dean a smirk of his own; Dean was evidently a terrific influence. "I did what I thought would be the safest for you."

"And yet you keep insisting you're not a -" Dean said.

"I'm not," Castiel said. "Besides, you were the one who started it."

"Did not."

"You kissed me first." Bobby very nearly hit his head on the trunk at how childish the angel sounded.

"Whatever." Dean tugged on Castiel's coat and pulled him in for a kiss.

Bobby glanced over his shoulder and smiled. He didn't know where they would end up, but he knew Castiel was one of the best things that had ever happened to Dean. All his life, he had been the solider to John, the protector to Sam, the guardian to his family. He sacrificed everything to keep them safe, but Dean never bothered to look after himself, and Bobby feared he never would. Having one more set of eyes watch out for Dean wouldn't hurt, especially when those eyes really cared for Dean, and knew exactly who Dean Winchester was.

It was also definitely a plus that Castiel could move at light speed. Only a freaking Winchester would get an angel to fall in love with them.

Bobby grinned again as he slammed the trunk shut and turned around. He saw Dean and Castiel **still** locked together. _Damn horndogs_, Bobby thought. He froze when he spotted Sam, who stood on the porch with wide eyes and an open mouth. Bobby nodded and walked past Dean and Castiel, approaching Sam.

"W-w-what-" Sam sputtered, unable to tear his eyes from his brother and Castiel.

"Don't sweat it, Sam," Bobby said. He patted Sam on the shoulder and continued on into the house.

As hilarious as it might be, that was a conversation Bobby just didn't want to witness.

 

_Angele dei  
Qui custos es mei  
Me, tibi commissum pietate superna  
Hac nocte illumina, costodi, rege, et guberna._

Angel of God  
My guardian dear  
To whom His love commits me here  
Ever this night be at my side  
To light, to guard, to rule, and to guide.  
Amen.


End file.
